When The Sun Came Up
by Mist.Filled.Eyes
Summary: A one-shot about life, death, being a vampire and Edward Dalton.


**A/N: **Alright, I've never written for this movie before, and I doubt I've written anything like it, but I watched the movie _Daybreakers _and I couldn't stop myself. It was a decent enough movie ( for one that reminded me heavily of _I Am Legend _) and it had some good scenes. I thought it deserved another person to write for it, there aren't many - I checked.

So here it is, my very first ever _Daybreakers _oneshot, which by the way I own none of it. Not characters, not script, not plot, nothing.

Without further ado,

* * *

Admittedly, he'd considered himself a coward for a long time. He'd been too afraid of the pain, the blood lust, and everything that accompagnied being a vampire to willingly consent to being changed. He'd been afraid of becoming something he couldn't control, so he wouldn't drink human blood regularly. He'd been afraid of failure, so he had always had to be forced to move ahead with a prototype blood replacement.

He'd been afraid of his little brother for a while, after he'd made the change. Once Frankie changed into a vampire, he became better at everything he was already _good _at. Before he was quiet, now he was deadly silent when he walked. If he was a strong fighter before - and Edward wouldn't know that, he'd never been witness to his brother's fights - now he was even better.

"Security alert - back door ajar."

Edward Dalton stirred from his revere at the noise before calling out just loud enough to be heard, "Frankie?"

"Yea, it's me." His little brother, dressed in black like he was attending a funeral, walked in. Ed made an effort not to shrink into the couch he sat on, his brother's golden eyes glittered at him in a reminder that he was the one in the family who drank blood. Ed forced himself not to look away when he rose out of his seat. "You look pale, are you getting a cold from working in that freezer you call a lab?"

"I'm not exactly out in the sun a lot, the world operates at night now and us humans have adjusted. Our beach tan is suffering though," he joked. Frankie laughed and stepped closer. The younger of the Dalton brothers knew that Ed was nervous by the fangs, but he was emboldened by Edward's sudden courage. Ed usually kept a careful 5 feet between them, but today he didn't flinch when Frankie passed 'go' and shortened that distance to 3 feet.

"I missed you, Ed. Been a while." He offered a hand first. Immediately he felt his approach similar to the way he'd get close to a skittish animal. Edward looked down, assessed, then took the hand and pulled Frankie into the first hug they'd shared since one them stopped aging.

It last about a minute before Frankie let go, if Ed was trying to prove something to them both, he wouldn't let the eventual panic bleed into what could prove to be their first and last real moment.

Edward looked almost happy when he said he was going to get a drink and be right back. As soon as he was out of the room, Frankie let the pain in his heart show on his face. Edward would never forgive him for his actions tonight, even if they were for his own good. Then he felt the sadness change to rage. How could they do this to him? Edward's own boss was going to have him captured and bled like a pig. Blood farming, they called it.

He held back a hiss and clenched his jaw. His commanding officer had visited him in his apartment last night, told him about the plans to get his brother and all other humans. He'd said the only way that Frankie could keep his brother safe was to change him - with or without his consent. He told him how to do it safely, so that Ed didn't suffer too badly.

Didn't matter that Edward would view doing this as a betrayal.

Couldn't matter that Ed may very well hate him for it.

Frankie's head snapped up when Edward's voice reached him. The elder sounded almost frightened. "Frankie, is something the matter?" Frankie looked Ed over and found that the rage didn't abate at Ed's concerned appearance.

"What's the matter, Ed, nothing is the matter. Unless you wanna count how no matter what I do, you're frightened of me!" He found himself yelling. The famous Dalton solution; when you don't know what to say, yell something that would hurt like hell. Right on cue, Ed flinched. "See? If I raise my voice, you freak out. You freak out at the smallest things!"

"What do you want me to do? I can't very well ignore that before you could kick my ass easy, now you could _kill_ me even easier!" Edward raised his defensive hackles and snapped back. "And what's the matter with you, you almost seemed to be okay and now you're acting like - like -"

"What? Like what? Say it Ed! I'm acting like a goddamn vampire!"

"Stop! Just stop! I don't know what the matter is and I don't care!" Ed's glass, that had been in his hand, fell. It smashed on the floor, Ed cursed and began picking up the peices. "Frankie, if you came here to yell at me and try and fuck with my head then you've succeeded. I'm hurt, confused and afraid - if that's your goal then you've won."

His point was reitterated by the shaking of his hands, which caused a shard of glass to lodge itself in his skin. Edward hissed with pain and went into the kitchen to clean it off. He opened the faucet and let the warm water begin washing away his blood. As he was cleaning, he felt movement and froze in place, feeling his still beating heart skip a beat, as he felt the air around him move. Frankie didn't breath now, but not even he could stop the air from moving when he moved.

"F-frankie?" He breathed the name, but otherwise didn't react. Frankie radiated a chilling aura whereas humans had a warm aura, that's how Edward could tell that his brother was directly behind him. "I just cut myself Frankie, it's okay, I'm not mad anymore." He turned off the sink and turned to face his little brother.

Frankie almost hated himself for how fast his thirst had flared up at the scent of Ed's blood on the air, a sure sign that he would need blood soon. He forced him to remember his mission; he came here to turn his brother and save his life. If he didn't complete said mission, Edward would die.

He gripped his brother's wrist, ignoring the blood now, and gently tugged him into the livingroom. "C'mon, I'll clean that up." He muttered as he grabbed a washcloth and left the kitchen. Ed let himself be pushed onto the couch, trying to catch up with his little brother's mood swings.

His little brother was the poster boy for bi-polar. One minute he was happy, the next he was enraged, then remorseful. He exclaimed softly when Frankie pulled the peice of glass out. "Edward, how much do you trust me?" The hematologist looked up at his military brother and frowned. Frankie never called him Edward.

"I trust you with my life."

"Do you?"

"Of course I do, you're my little brother." He looked a bit alarmed, slightly more confused when Frankie took both his wrists in one hand and gripped his chin to hold his gaze. "You're freaking me out Frankie, what's going on?"

"It's really important you understand this. I'm doing this for your safety, got it?" Frankie's golden eyes flashed an emotion, to quickly flickering for Ed to really grasp what it was. "Edward, tell me you understand."

"I-i understand." He lied quietly. He had no fucking clue what Frankie was talking about, but his brother's body language was so utterly wrong. It was almost panicked. The way he was holding onto Ed's wrists made him think that Frankie was keeping him from fighting, but the fingers on his chin were too gently placed to be threatening. Frankie's back was straight and tense, but his eyes were calm.

Frankie nodded jerkily, another contradictory action before suddenly moving. Everything tightened, the grip on his wrists moved to bruising intensity and Frankie used the grip on his chin to force his head to the side. Ed recognized this position and immediately began to try and thrash. "No! Frankie don't!"

Before the turn his brother could overpower him easily, now it was child's play. Edward had this point driven home by the feel of fangs sinking into his throat.

He screamed, he thrashed, he cursed and he struggled. Eventually his screams died down to whimpers of pain, his thrashing to meek motions, his curses to silence and his struggles faded into an agonized sleep.

He'd told Frankie once that he would rather die then become a vampire, but in the end when he woke up undead, with golden eyes and fangs. He was too afraid to kill himself. Hell he was too afraid to even attempt anything other then trashing his apartment in his anger.


End file.
